Fate
by In-The-Shadows
Summary: Well it's Harry's last year at hogwarts at last. But something isn't right... Dumbeldore had invited strange beings to the castle and Draco has been acting like a man on the run... will fate lead them all in the right direction? HarryXDraco SLASH! Enjoy
1. Disarmament

**__**

Fate

Chapter One:

__

Disarmament 

The Malfoy manner lay deep in a secluded mountain ravine, guarded on all sides by steep mountain walls covered my thick, evilly twisted, forest trees and vines. The grounds were an eerie, unsettling, place to walk upon. Although the forest stopped dead 1000 feet from the manner on all sides the shadows of the mountains themselves cast the grounds in a permanent twilight. To make matters even more chilling ever single patch of ground around the manner and high up into the forest was covered in a thick fog. The manner itself was made mostly of sturdy, black marble which only enhanced the eerie mood of the grounds. 

Currently it was shortly before 3 A.M. and the house was still well light with cold iron torches and lanterns. This was nothing uncommon for the desolate place. To look at it one would expect the place to be full of soles to tortured, evil, or dead inside too sleep well. While this was the case for some of the would be good hearted house elves and a few other members of the household it was not the current reason for the effective lighting of the house. The Malfoy family had just finished one of their famously long and productive business dinners with the usual death eaters, dark lord worshipers, and other malicious characters. Lucius himself was waving politely to a fellow death eater as the descended the steps, his mammoth black oak front doors being slowly closed behind the man by a old scared house elf that kept up his strength by fear of punishment, death, or maybe something worse.

Once the large doors had shrieked back into their door frames Lucius's pleasant smiled contorted into a hideous scowl and his gaze fell to his family house elf of almost one hundred years. "_What_ are _you_ still doing here?" he spat with venom and the characteristic holier-than-thou attitude of a proper pureblood. The poor creature suppressed a frightened yip and, after a deep bow to his master, he scurried off down a cramped slave passage. With his grand entrance hall clear of the unworthy life form Lucius turned his piercing gaze onto his wife and son who, at the moment, stood straight and respectfully side by side, returning his stare. Both, like himself, were formally dressed. Narcissa in a glittering, flowing, peach evening gown, and his son in his formal dress robes for Hogwarts; a simple reminder to his friends that indeed their influence was even in the most well protected places.

"Narcissa, you may go to bed now," he said coolly with a curt, barely visible nod. Narcissa bowed her head respectful, her body also slightly inclined with the movement, before she glided silently away out into the hallway and to the left. Draco also bowed and made to turn when his father's voice stopped him. "Not you, Draco. I have something to discuss with you in the dungeons." Draco arched a high, questioning pale eyebrow, but followed his father anyway.

The inside of the Malfoy manner was anything but an improvement from the outside. It was nearly all black marble, black wood, dark and dismal formal setting were even the light from the fireplaces seemed reluctant to spread very far, and almost never warmed. The entrance hall was nearly five stories tall with sweeping church like arch ceilings and doors. The hallway was no better. Nothing in the manner was any better. While only one story it was long and windowless with torches spaced intermittently that, like the firelight, did little to dispel the darkness of the place. Draco walked, head high as always, albeit silently behind his father. As they passed closed door after closed door the only sounds about them were the quite whispers of the flames, the clacking of their shoes on the hard marble floor, and the snapping of their cloaks moving in the breeze they created. 

All the while Draco asked nothing and said nothing. After all these years under his father he knew when to speak and when to keep his mouth shut. His father had something to tell him, probably about his upcoming initiation into the death eaters shortly after his 17th birthday (After graduating from Hogwarts of course), and it was best to let him do it his way. Draco was so preoccupied he just barely noticed when his father stopped before a heavily cast iron bolted door that lead to the expansive dungeons of the Malfoy manner. Stumbling a bit, he managed to keep up as they started down the long corkscrew staircase that, for the lack of any light, save the small lantern Lucius had garbed from a shelf near the door, seemed to be floating, unsupported in a void.

The dungeon, is possible, was even worse than the rest of the house. It had no lighting of it's own, save with well fueled lanterns left on a shelf near the door by house elves. Everything seemed sharply cold, damp, and isolating. A place made not of marble like the rest of the house, but cracked old stone. A place built sole for privacy, potion making, and the breaking of prisoners spirits. When, after what seemed like miles of depth, they touched down on a rough stone floor Lucius didn't pause once, but continued steadily down one of the oldest passageways in the manner. It was so old, the stone's more cracked and blackened then the rest, that it might be the one remainder of the vast underground torture chambers that existed, even before the Malfoy family had taken up residence in this light forsaken realm. The passage they entered was small and cramped, a reminder of times long past when people were supposedly not as tall as they could often be today, in the shape of a gothic arch. 

Whatever his father had to talk to him about, Draco had realized some time ago, must have to deal with one of their resident prisoners. Although Voldemort had more than enough of his own storage space for his own victims, betrayers, and (as he called them) toys, he had a taste for spreading them out among his death eaters. For their enjoyment, no doubt, and to keep the victims confused. It was a known rule never to leave a prisoner in one place too long. Some of the most stubborn being could gain hope from the simple fact that their prison was a constant in their current lives. Always the same walls until they were rescued or died. The dreaded dark lord offered, not even that comfort to his victims. The Malfoy manner was an exceptional place to store prisoners. The utter darkness of it, while constant was suffocate ding and almost as good as any of the forbidden curses, so Draco was quite aware of the comings and goings in his the depths of his home. He'd frequented to basement, potions lab, and torture chambers since he was quite young, no doubt part of his father's plan to ready him for his fate as a high ranking death eater.

After another lifetime of walking they came to another door made of old, near petrified wood. Draco's brow climbed towards his hairline again as his father paused before the door, raised the lantern to face level, and with one short puff extinguished the flame. Darkness. At first that's all there was. The kind of thick sticky darkness that can drive you insane after a while, although Draco would have an advantage over normal people. Being surrounded by this darkness all his life he was more than used to it. Then, as his vision adjusted he was able to see the outline of the old wooden door illuminated by some white/blue magical light from inside the chamber beyond the door.

"There's something very important I must show you Draco," came his father's silky voice from beside him in the darkness. There was a brief moment when his father's arm came in front of him, block portions of the light to unlock the door, and then the door was open. As one they stepped inside the dimly illuminated holding cell and what sight greeted Draco's eyes was, in all his years of school and forbidden privileges that came with his families …connections, like nothing he'd ever seen before.

In the very back corner of the tiny cell was…some strange form of magical creature he'd never seen before…in the form of a woman. In her human appearances nothing seemed unusual. She seemed young but ageless at the same time, almost like an elf. Her hair was brown with some red, it clearly fell down to her knees, even though she was huddled in the corner, her eyes were a mix of blue/green, and her skin seemed a shade darker then the pale aristocratic skin that ran in his family, but still very much an English complexion. She was dressed in a rather elaborate silver evening like gown who's sparkles only added to the light. The light, that was the very bizarre thing. That and her eyes. The light was soft but strong and seemed to be coming from her, and her eyes… they were deep and seemed to hold an oceans depths of knowledge. She looked like a cross between a human and a ghost but the aura she had around her and the feel of the air in the room immediately alerted Draco that she was not human. She was indeed a magical creature of some sort. Rare and powerful.

"This _thing_," his father began slowly, "is called a Mystic. A magical creature, as I'm sure your experience has alerted you. Fathomlessly powerful it was thought they were nothing more than a fairytale until recently. It was said that they knew the intimate workings of the universe and could control and change a mans destiny with their actions and guidance. Lord Voldemort came upon this creature once during his travels in the forbidden forests of your school. Then he was still recovering, drinking unicorn's blood to stay alive. He could not capture it then, but now, with his return to power he was able to return and take it. He's tried to reason with the poor wretch but it won't see reason. To add to the frustration his usual methods of persuasion have done nothing. He can only assume that this is due to how little we really know about this creature. So he has trusted our family, his most highly trusted allies, to find… other methods of convincing. Since the matter has fallen in vain to all others under me I am trusting you to prove that I at least you at competent enough to deal with the matter. That I must not do everything myself.

Draco nodded, noting the tone his father used left no room for failure. It wasn't a surprising request. He'd been watching, supervising, and even helping in the torture of the victims as long as he'd been coming there. Just training. It was just more training. With a particularly nasty snarl he observed the magical beast closer. Through rips and tears and several healing wounds he could see someone usually most effective in such matters had tried, but failed to do enough to truly shake the creature. There was far too much peace and contentment in her-no, it, keep it impersonal- its eyes. It looked almost as if it'd never been touched if you were too look into its eyes. With a small stretch of his shoulders Draco brought his wand front and center and muttered a highly advanced spell meant to have the impact of falling of a cliff on it's victim. It wasn't exactly a forbidden curse, but close. He wanted to see how really difficult it would be to get the creature to cry out. The bright magic flew from the tip of his wand and impacted on the mystic. Draco paused and eyed the creature. Nothing had happened. He bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit he thought he'd left behind him, when the creature didn't even flinch. He could practically feel the tension of his father's mounting anger behind him. That was not good. That was not good at all. The a breath drawn shakily in he began a merciless onslaught of curse after curse forbidden and not. Anything and everything seemed to have no effect, and as his nervousness grew the came in faster and faster secession.

Just when Draco was really started to panic, inwardly, he noticed a shift in the creature. The Mystic's eyes were no longer contented. Although not a muscle in her face was twisted in pain her eyes revealed the truth. The saddened and watered with pain. Draco let out a mental sigh of relief. He as getting somewhere, he just hoped it would be fast enough.

__

…Mr. Potter…

Draco faltered a little in his attacks when the first, single drop of blood formed in the center of the Mystic's chest, staining her already ruined gown. He could have sworn he'd just heard it speak. Just the faintest whisper… "What are you _waiting_ for? You're finally _getting_ somewhere. Show that thing what real pain is!" his father snarled when he paused. Draco shook his head and continued the assault. Though the creature never even flinched it's tears were flowing freely know, a painful lost look glazed over it's eyes, and blood was flowing rather liberally from the wound just over it's heart. Draco smiled wickedly, without humor, as his curses began to have more and more effect. It wasn't until he felt a feather light touch on his shoulder that he stopped the onslaught. 

His father did not look at him, however. He merely crossed in front of him to stare the creature down. "So you do bleed after all? I think that speaks little of the current death eaters if a mere child can bring you to this sorry state." Draco bit his lip again. His father still called him a child. Nothing he ever did was enough. At least until he joined the death eaters he was a child. After that he'd be a man. He'd get respect from his father then, and bring that filthy Potter to Voldermort himself. And the creature in front of them, it would help them or be added to their list of victims. He didn't care what the means as long as they met there goal.

It was still bleeding hard, but hand not so much as batted an eyelash to its tears of moved its hands from its lap to block his attack. It was just looking up at his sneering father with sadness and deep hurt in it's eyes… and something else… pity? No, he had to be wrong, no victim of the Malfoy dungeon would have the audacity too…

Lucius's hand whistled threw the air and contacted sharply with the creature's face. "How dare you look at me as thought I was the one in need of pity here. If it is anyone, it is only you!" The creature was at least intelligent to keep it's eyes downcast this time. Lucius glared at it for another good minute or so before turning sharply on his heels and heading out. "Come Draco. I must report this to our Lord and I do believe that you have some shopping to do before the school train tomorrow.

_"Ah yes,"_ Draco thought as he turned_, "School book list came bloody late again. Good thing this manner is so well stocked or I'd be hard pressed to meet the train."_ Draco had just gotten to the door when he hear it again…

__

…Mr. Potter…this…this isn't right…it's not your destiny…

Draco spun on his heel and stared at the creature wide eyed. He'd _definitely_ heard it speak that time. No he'd definitely never seen a creature like it. After a torture session that would have brought any person within an inch of their life it sat calmly with it's legs folded under it, one hand over it's wound that caused blood to streak between it's fingers, and silent eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. The cocktail of pain and hurt was still their too, deep and nearly palpable in the air…

"DRACO! Come I will**_ not_** wait for you!" roared his father from the doorframe. 

"Coming!" Draco said sounding a little more shaken than he would've liked as he scurried out of the room. His father relight the lantern, took care to lock the cell door securely with powerful magic, and strode off quickly back the way they had come. Draco had to nearly run to keep up, but he was about to be left behind with her- It, dammit! IT!. They back seemed to pass much more quickly and before Draco knew it they were back in the long, dimly light hallway. 

"Off to bed with you," came an order from Lucius. 

"Yes father." Draco replied with a respectful bow and headed off back towards the entrance hall while his father continued further down the hall towards his private office. Just before the doors that lead into the entranceway Draco slid into a nearly hidden passage and began climbing stairs. Stair way after hallway after stairway. His room was probably the most difficult room to get to in the entire manner and he was thankful for it. It gave him a lot of privacy. Even his scrutinizing father only made the trek up there once a month or so. When Draco finally got to his room, the highest in the west tower he sloppily tossed his cloak onto a nearby chair and made a beeline for his balcony, not even bothering to summon up a fire. 

It was dark up here too. From his viewpoint Draco could see the sheer walls of blackness that surrounded his house, making him feel even more like he was trapped in a void. It wall all so unsettling, the darkness, that girl…it…whatever. Confused and a little shaken he turned his head to the heavens pleased to find the sky clear. Yes, even here in one of the worlds most dismal places, the stars still shone to guide the lost souls home. When Draco was little, often after he'd been forced to endure something to harden him against the tasks of a death eater, he'd come out here and gazed out at the stars all night for comfort. He hadn't done that in a long…long time… Maybe he just grew up and stopped hoping things would change… whatever it was was fairly irrelevant at the moment.

_Nothing_ a victim had _ever_ done had shaken him so badly, even when he was barely five and new to the scene of torture. He was almost positive that she'd…she'd been addressing _him_, but…she'd called him by… by that filthy wanna be hero's name. As if he would be part of…_that_ family… The name wasn't even the worst part…it was her choice of words… He remembered after he'd seen his first person killed, his fifth birthday, was the very first night he'd spent on the balcony seeking comfort in the heavens. He'd cried for hours telling himself this wasn't right…. This _couldn't possibly_ be his destiny… but with time those feelings had faded and with conditioning he became almost a robot at his work. Insult, trick, smirk, torture, kill; all those words came forefront in his vocabulary. It had been a long time indeed since he'd allowed himself to acknowledge feeling vulnerably… but now he felt like he had no choice. Despite all his training… all his walls…he felt vulnerable… and he didn't like it…

For the first time in eons of immunity he stayed out on the balcony, looking at the lights in the dark until they began to fade… Then with a sigh he pushed himself off the balcony floor and shoved the Malfoy mask right back into place. Not all things were right with his world just yet… his mask no longer fit the contours of his soul, but at least he felt comfortable enough to get it on. With a quick shower and change he slid between the cool Black and green satin of his bed sheets. He was not really expecting rest to find him, but at least he could unfocused and lie still until the house elves came to call him down…down to what was his destiny, weather he was ready for it or not… 

Authors Notes: ^_^ I know most fics at least have some Harry action in ever chapter but Draco's character seemed neglected to me so I thought I'd give him some special attention, really let you see his background and home life, that sort of thing. Don't worry though, there's a lot more action and a lot more Harry coming up! ^_^


	2. Don't I Know You?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of it's characters, they all belong to J.K. Rowling. 

Chapter 2:

__

Don't I know you?

The trip to Diagon Ally was an unusually uneventful affair. Draco and his father made the usual rounds at the best stores available and even some of the darker shops in the area. It was easy enough. Just the same old routine. Whatever odd feelings that creature had stirred in him were obviously a trick of some sort. No matter. It'd be broken and the Dark Lord would rise to power once again in all his glory. Until then it was all to easy _not_ to look for Potter and his friends around every corner and in every shop. And he _definitely_ paid no mind what so ever to the hideous creature's audacity at even thinking of him as a friendly part of potters life.

After handing over his trunk and other belongings to a slightly trembling house elf Draco nodded politely to his father, saying his goodbyes, and walked calmly onto the train. As if stepping out of the woodwork itself Crabe and Gole appeared behind him suddenly, flanking both sides like secret service body guards. Draco, head raised highly as ever felt a smirk cross his lips as the powerful aristocratic air he always held began to fall back into place. He even turned to sneer viciously at a second year Ravenclaw as she dared to cross his path, not noticing the compartment door to his left opening until it was too late.

His head collided so roughly with the door that he was tossed back a few feet onto the trains shaking floor. He blinked a few times and shook his head to clear his vision before he lifted his head to meet furious emerald eyes glaring daggers at him. "Malfoy." The word was uttered simple and curt, like a curse, and the very overshadowing air Potter was giving off would've done Snape proud. 

The hint of a smirk tugged at Draco's lips and ready insults pushed their way to the small break of his lips, but… He said nothing. Instead he followed an impulse that had fleeted through him on one or more of these occasions that he'd never given voice before. He simply looked silently back up at Harry with a blank expression on his face. He was vaguely aware that Crabbe and Gole were coiled for attack, snarling and foaming at the mouth by now, but where either to stupid or too foolish to spring without their blessed master's consent. 

At first Harry just continued to glare mercilessly at Draco, but after a few moments of this odd staring match confusion tugged at the corners of his face. He'd just knocked Draco Malfoy, of all people, to the floor so roughly blood streaked his forehead and all he got in response was…a silent regarding… Bloody Malfoy hadn't even glared at him. That was…and how… surely the apocalypse was upon them now. After another endless moment of staring Harry turned his back and walked impassively away while Draco shrugged off his lap dogs and righted himself on his own. At their questioning looks he said only, "I have better plans for him."

Crabbe and Goyle were surprised but confidant that their all mighty leader had a plan of some sort in the works that would have filthy Potter's grandchildren blushing. As the wicked threesome turned to make their way to their usual compartment Draco couldn't stop himself from gazing indifferently over his should at Potter's retreating robes, his mind just grazing on some abstract question he felt would form definite words far to quickly for his liking.

****

~~~

"Harry! Harry, over here!" Ron cried as he struggled desperately to disentangle himself room the wave of Hogwarts students, old and new, to meet up with his best friend. Harry had to fight not to laugh when Hermionie came up behind him to deliver a sharp smack upside the head and yell at him for abandoning the first year students before they found Hagrid. Hermionie and Ron were head boy and girl now, thus there responsibilities kept the trio apart during the length of the train ride to Hogwarts. Harry hadn't minded though, since it was practically a yearly tradition for them to meet up at the burrow three weeks before school started. The past six years It had been out of need for Harry's protection and a million other things, but not this year. This year, even with the war against Voldermort searing in everyone's veins they decided to spend the time together solely out of want of good memories and happy times together. It was their last year at Hogwarts, quite hopefully the last year against Voldermort, and everything was going to change. "Ow! Hermionie! Knock it off! It's not like they could miss Hagrid! Good Lord! You'd think there were dementors and boggarts around every corner the way your acting!" Well….not everything was going to change. At least Harry would always have those two.

"Could you two _try_ not to kill each other before the first feat of the year?" Harry said with a mock scolding voice and Ron and Hermionie finally joined him.

"If that red headed lummox would stop neglecting his duties as Head Boy, then , yes I think that's possible," Hermione said in her calm albeit no-nonsense voice.

Ron took a moment to glare daggers at he girl before turning enthusiastically back to Harry. "Harry I just saw Malfoy! He's got the most hideous gash on his forehead! There were rumors flying all over the train! Did you really whack him one?!"

"Ron!"

"Oh honestly Hermione! You don't like him any more than we do!"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I condone fist fights on the school train!"

"Guys!" Harry shouted stepping in between his friends, "One of these days I'm really going to have to hire a professional referee for you two. Do you _like_ arguing? No wait, don't answer that."

Hermione chuckled a little at the comment. It was kind of entertaining verbally sparing with the utterly clueless red head.

Ron however, ran straight from arguing with Hermione, back to drilling Harry. "Is it true Harry? Did he jump you? Was there any dueling? Did-"

"Ron!," Harry said quite forcefully breaking of the animated string of questions. "No Ron that's not what happened at all!"

Ron, who had practically been bouncing around a moment ago seemed to deflate a little. "What? Then…then how'd Malfoy get that gash across his forehead?"

"Could you two possible walk and talk at the same time?" Hermione piped in, "I don't want the carriages to leave without us." Without waiting for a response she hooked arms with both boys and proceeded to drag them towards the carriages. Ron rolled him eyes at Hermione's predictable Ms. Responsibility routine before shooting another unmistakably questioning look at Harry. 

"Well? Go on then, tell us what happened."

"Since you two were gone the whole train ride I was walking around, looking for Neville or another person to sit with. Well I got stuck in an empty room at one point and when I finally managed to swing the door open Malfoy happened to be right outside. He was looking the other way so he never saw it coming."

"Oh I'll just bet he had a bitter remark ready the moment you saw each other," Ron sighed sarcastically as they all piled into a carriage. 

"Actually…."

"What did he go straight for his wand this time?" 

"Ron!"

"What?! He's a dark wizard Hermione, we all know that!" Ron cried indignantly.

"Yes, but he never really dose much more than talk you know."

"He didn't say anything," Harry said at last stopping another argument before it could really get going. "He just sort of lay there, looking up at me, without saying a word."

"Probably trying to kill you off with a look," Ron scoffed. Hermione sighed and shook her head, but remained silent. That was Ron for you, ever the fiery violent one.

"That's the really weird part about it…" Harry trailed off leaving his two constantly bickering companions silent and staring at him in confusion. "He wasn't glaring…he didn't say anything…and he never even flinched for his wand… He just looked up at me indifferently until I walked away…It doesn't make sense…"

"Well you can't completely peg everyone Harry, even Malfoy isn't incapable of changing his behavior."

"God Hermione why don't you just go make Harry apologize for knocking Malfoy down!"

"I didn't say change for the better did I? He _is_ a Malfoy after all." Ron just smiled as if to say, "About time you started making sense," and the group lapsed into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the ride to the castle.

The silence, however, did not last long. From the moment Harry got off the carriage he was stormed by people from every house wanting the same explanation as to what happened between him and Malfoy on the train. Even as he settled down at his usual place at the Gryffindor table he was still retelling the decidedly anti-climactic meeting between him and the Slytherin.

"I bet you he's planning something!" Neville spat, taking a moment to glare across the hall at the Slytherin table. "Something so colossal it'll put all his other stunts to shame."

"I wouldn't put it past him," Ron scoffed.

"What new Quidditch players dose our team need this year?" Hermione ventured in attempts to get a more pleasurable conversation going.

Harry sighed, resting his chin in his hands, and was thankful for the others distraction. At the moment he seriously needed to think. Okay, so he'd been doing nothing but since his little encounter with Malfoy, but he still hadn't gotten anywhere… Why would he do that? What was he thinking? What was he planning? Was he, in fact, planning anything at all? There were too many questions to think about at the moment, better to sleep on it.

In the attempts to relax his mind Harry let his gaze casually sweep across the hall noting the familiar faces and decorative banners hung about. It felt great to come back to the only place he ever considered home. He let his eyes flitter over the ceiling, across the various house tables, and somehow made his way to Slytherin. There it was. At the exact moment he was looking Draco Malfoy turned from his conversation with Crabbe and met Harry's stare with his own. There was no real hostility in either of them but the tension was there. The intensity of their gazing snapped and crackled almost audibly through the air, causing the tiny hairs on the back of Harry's neck to stand to full attention. "_This is different,_" he mused just before the doors to the entrance hall creaked loudly open followed by a fresh pack of frightened looking first years. The sudden noise made him look away and the connection was gone, but the memory of is continued to chill him all the way through the sorting ceremony.

****

~~~

Draco smirked coolly as the very last of the first years came to Slytherin and the sorting ceremony was over. He was the picture of composure while Dumbledore stood to deliver the beginning of term speech. All was as it should be, Dumbledore was droning on in that annoyingly captive voice of his, the houses were seated for dinner, and he was practically oozing aristocratic arrogance. He was not by any means still dwelling on Potter like he had been for almost the past twenty four hours. And he never felt horrible shaken to the core by the intensity of the sudden bond he and Potter had shared with that meeting of eyes at the start of the ceremony. He was so on top of his game at the moment not even a pin could drop in the hall without his sharp gray eyes catching it's decent. In fact- "Goyle!," Draco hissed as he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Are you _trying _to give me a heart attack?!"

"I only tapped you on the shoulder," he said dumbly before continuing as though nothing had happened. "You should pay attention. Dumbledore's about to announce the new defenses against the dark arts teacher. I heard no one would take it, and I don't see any new teachers up there. It could very well be Snape at last this year."

Draco raised a single delicate eyebrow near to his hairline at that comment. He knew Snape would've informed his family if that were true, but no matter how many times he told Goyle he did not expect him to remember. He was Goyle after all. Draco sighed and turned gracefully on the hard school bench so he could hear the headmaster more clearly; thankful for something to distract him from what he was not thinking of.

"And one final note before we begin," Dumbledore's comforting old voice continued to echo through the hall, "As you might suspect we were again lacking a Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher at the end of last year. I am very pleased to announce that a new, very qualified teacher came to ask for the position before we could even begin to search. Her name is Kaleigh Strata. You no doubt notice that she is absent from the dining hall at this time. She sends to you all her deepest apologies, but she was taken ill for a few weeks now and has not yet fully recovered. Never fear though. I am told she will be up and about and ready to teach you all by tomorrow morning. Now, it seems all official business is out of the way, so… let the feast begin." With a simple flick of his wrists the beginning feast of the year appeared on the tables and everyone dug in.

****

~~~

"So what have the deadly trio been up to this summer?" Dean asked casually stuffing a roll into his mouth.

"Deadly?" gasped Hermione confused.

"Fell fow frawkcialge fwiiped owf ah ofeahn ohb lemonphors fob ah muoof!" Dean replied casually through his roll.

"Dean how on earth do you expect us to understand you with half a roll in your mouth?!" Ron said obviously trying not to laugh.

"Dean my darling," chirped Seamus as he casually slid his arm around the boys shoulders, "Why will you ever learn to chew your food? I was there to give you the Heimlich once but I can't watch over you all the time."

With a mighty swallow Dean proceeded to glare daggers at the boy next to him. "Funny Seamus." Seamus just grinned wickedly back at him and proceeded to continue eating his dinner without another word. With an irritated huff Dean spoke again, "I said, 'Well you practically wiped out an ocean of dementors run a muck!'…last year I mean." Dean trailed off and had the decency to look a little ashamed. 

Last year had been the hardest, most heart wrenching battle against Voldermort that they'd ever fought. Voldermort thought it would be funny to mess with a deadly mind control potion that ended up in many important kidnappings and ransom. Nearly half the school lost at least on relative in the struggle, for Voldermort had taken no prisoners, despite the claims of the horrid letters. Harry had been lured into a deep underground cavern somewhere out in the wilderness. As the story had it the walls were lined with cryptic writing and the whispers in the wind were the trapped souls of every single person Voldermort had murdered. From what anyone could gather he'd jinxed the walls to speak like his past victims to drive his current ones insane. Not a single person failed to notice the shared darkness their favorite trio now seemed to have after returning from that historic battle. The worst of it was…Voldermort was still not dead… 

Dean was about to open his mouth an apologizing for ever bringing it up but Harry dispelled the silence for him. "We spent the last three weeks of it together at the burrow."

"Really? Get any sneak peeks of the Weasley brothers latest pranks?" Seamus asked casually sipping on some apple cider, trying to break the dark mood that had settled over them all.

"Actually, now that you mention it Fred and George were acting strange all summer," Ron mused, "They've been really…tensed around each other… And none of their pranks are as viscous as they used to be. Well, not the next line anyway…"

"I noticed that too," Hermione piped up again, "You think they could have some sort of love triangle going on?"

All four of the boys proceeded to choke on their dinner before Dean rounded, "Fred and George? A love triangle? Impossible. They've never gotten into any relationship so messy before. Ever. Besides they're so close one or both of them would probably back away from it. They're own relationship has always gone above some stupid girl, no offense Herm."

"Non taken."

"Seriously Hermione why do you think they'd be involved in a romantic soap opera to rival Percy's love affairs?" Ron asked decidedly calmer and beginning to work on his mashed potatoes again.

"Well," Said Hermione going into lecture mode, "I'm not surprised you didn't think of this," Ron glared, "but all their 'pranks' have really been just ways to set people up." Ron looked blankly at her and she sighed and counted off the various' pranks' on her fingers. "Kissing Cuffs, Soul Mate Snares, Sticky Snogging Gum; their all ways of trapping people together for some length of time in… romantic positions. My guess is that they have some sort of heartache preying on their minds."

Ron just laughed at the though. "Honestly Hermione I doubt it's anything Serious. Fred and George don't do serious… not really. It'll be fun to tease them about it though. Hehehe Fred and George torn up about romance… yeah right! Hahaha!"

Hermione just let out an exasperated sight and threw her head into her hands. That and the background noise of Dean and Seamus trying to come up with some clever way to get the Slytherins with, one of Fred and Georges own, Oil Slick Serpents set Harry of in a small fit of hysteria. For people who faced danger so many times in their lives none of them ever lost their sense of humor. Of course he should happen to look up at the same moment that Malfoy was proudly, albeit silently, slinking away, and cause that chilling eye contact to overtake him again. It was only fleeting this time, however. Wherever Malfoy was going, he obviously did not of time for long crackling staring matches. As Harry saw him turn an finally slide through the door though, he was fairly certain the effects of that last sighting would last him for hours.

****

~~~

Draco paused outside the now closed doors of the great hall to enjoy the silence of the halls. That's what he needed right now. To be alone. To think. Surely dinner would go on for another two hours or so, the important celebrations were always unusually long. He hadn't had breakfast and he'd hardly touched his dinner but he wasn't hungry. "_Isn't that one of Harry's worst habits when he gets upset? Didn't you used to take anything and everything out on new first years before?_" chirped his mind in a voice that sounded altogether too much like that creature he'd dealt with last night. And when where they on a first name basis? Even mentally it was disturbing. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Draco proceeded to cross the large entrance hall intending to spend the rest of the evening plotting Potter's ultimate demise in the hopes of restoring his suddenly interrupted aura to normality. That was until he hear that voice…

__

That's not really what you want…is it Mr. Potter?

Draco whirled on his heals before she'd finished the first syllable. "What the hell?!" he practically screeched. There, no less than twenty feet from him was that…that.. Fate creature! She looked no different from the last time she'd laid her haunted blue/green gaze on him. Her long brown hair was still falling messily around the waist of her tattered silver dress. Her right hand was still clutched tightly over the continuously bleeding wound, marring her otherwise perfect hand with steaks of red. Damn all the heavens this was not possible! How could see be standing here like that, still glowing an eerie silver blue? Looking at him like that? It was almost like he'd broken her heart… But then a blinking fit and a tossed head latter it was gone. Well, there was still a young woman there in front of him, but… no it couldn't be the fate. What the bloody hell had caused that illusion? Stress… yes that was it. It was understandable. Especially considering the resemblance. This woman had the same hair, eye, and skin coloring as that beast. Her hair was long, but it was neatly tied back in a high ponytail, and she wore stylishly thin glasses along with jeans, a green sweater, and teachers robes. A stunning resemblance indeed, but things like that did happen… plus this woman was definitely not as gales or impressive as that creature. She looked in her mid thirties, and she had no such powerful magical Aura as he thought he'd felt a few minutes ago.

"I'm sorry, did I startle you Draco?" came a slightly familiar voice.

Draco shook his head as if to forcibly remove any and all thoughts of the Fate. This girl wasn't her, it wasn't the same voice. Similar, but no, not the same. What was he worrying for? She'd never get out of the Malfoy dungeon, not with all the horrible, unimaginable curses that would've befallen her. And it wasn't as though similarities didn't occur. He'd seen several pure blood boys that resembled him, didn't mean they had anything to do with him.

While Draco was entertaining this train of thought the new woman had closed most of the gap between them. "_Mr. Potter_ are you alright?" She asked and moved to place a hand on his shoulder. "You look quite pale."

"What did you just call me?! And how do you know my name?"

"I called you Mr. Malfoy, and why wouldn't I know you? Your family is rather famous after all."

"Right… um… Sorry. Must be more tired than I thought." said Draco trying desperately to calm his nerves. 

The woman laughed kindly and said, "That's quite alright I understand," she paused and her gaze flickered up to his forehead, "My that's a nasty cut. Why didn't you see the nurse about it?"

"It's only a cut Ms…?" Draco muttered a little more defiantly than his good manners should have allowed.

She smiled again. "I'm Ms. Strata, the new defense against the dark arts teacher. You really shouldn't leave that cut untreated, allow me."

Before Draco could even acknowledge having heard of her in the dining hall she stretched out her hand and brushed her fingers slowly across his now dried gash, light as a breeze. At the contact a sharp bitter cold seared into Draco, like her entire form was made of ice… it reminded him too much of what he'd felt before when Potter all but struck him with those emerald eyes of his. Potter, fates, my god it was too much for him. "I-I'm sorry I must go," he murmured before turning and al but running for the dungeons at top speed.

Kaleigh simple folded her hands in front of her and gave a small smile to Draco's retreating form. Much like the smile worn by the Mona Lisa. She sighed knowingly and was half turned towards the doors of the great hall when the doors opened before her. Snape, never one to stick around large gathering long had decided to fallow Draco's lead and head to the dungeons early. It was he who opened the door before Kaleigh and it was he who first locked eyes with her, besides Draco. Dumbledore had turned him down for DADA again but he'd not yet introduced the new teacher to the other staff. Some rubbish about her being too ill. While odd, Snape paid it no mind. It was just another hopeless drone in a seemingly cursed spot he felt only he could handle. And it was much to everyone's surprise when, upon meeting the new teachers eyes he stumbled backwards, near falling. Turned green and then a sickly pale and a horrified recognition spread across his face, totally destroying any and all masks that had previously lain upon his face.

Kaleigh seemed unaffected by his dramatic response. A small, true smile tugged at the corner of her lips and her eyes seemed to brighten considerably upon finding Professor Snape in front of her. "What are you looking at Severus? She asked with the fondness of familiarity.

At the sound of her voice every hard, cold, and downright nasty mask Snape had ever worn flew right back onto his face. He pulled himself to his fullest height and glared so fiercely at Kaleigh that even some of the senior teachers would have shrunken under the scrutiny. "Nothing…" he replied curtly with all the hatred and bitterness he possessed, "No one…" Without waiting for a response he stormed violently off to the dungeons, looking as though he would very much like to kill something.

Kaleigh, for the most part, seemed un-phased. You'd have to be paying intricately close attention to see the much darker look that crossed her eyes and the was her near smiling lips turned into a decidedly minuscule frown. And you'd have to be a real wonder to see the near heartbreak that crossed her face ass she stood their and watched Snape walk away. Harry Potter was apparently, all of these things.

The Great Hall was a silent as a graveyard. Although no one had seen Snape's face, because his back had been turned to them, his body language and the sheer ferocity of his growled phrase was enough to give them a hint. No one knew exactly what to say first. Luckily Dumbledore chose for them by greeting the new arrival. "Ah Professor Strata, feeling better ahead of schedule are we?"

With a microscopic sigh Kaleigh turned back around and beamed brightly at Dumbledore. "Yes Albus, much. Thought it would be best if I introduced myself now instead of leavening your poor students in suspense."

Dumbledore smiled, with that annoying pleasant glint in his eye that let you know he was planning something and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce your new DADA teacher, Professor Strata." The great Hall was silent one moment more before erupting into a nice polite applause. As far as most of them were concerned, if Snape didn't like her they were going to love her or really rue the day they were born. Judgment on that would have to wait. She'd certainly made quite an entrance. Kaleigh bowed a little in thanks, but ended up clutching her chest in a small wince as she did so. With a small stumble she righted herself and walked calmly down the isle towards the teachers table. Where Dumbledore, ever predictable said, "Alright everyone. It appears this evenings surprised are over, you may return to your meals.

Having seen far stranger things from some of their professors than a sudden appearance the student body had no trouble with complying. Within seconds the whole place was buzzing with rumors about why Snape had reacted so strangely to the new Professor, and If that was a good or a bad thing. Harry made it an effort never to participate or listen to Gossip, seeing where he'd been the victim of some particularly nasty gossip in his day. Instead he was content to focus on his meal and blissfully ignore most of the people around him. That is until his gaze wandered around the room again, finding itself at the teachers table. He watched the New professor chat animatedly with Dumbledore. She seemed interesting enough. With that entrance she'd definitely fit in at Hogwarts. He'd have to find out more about he the next day, seeing as his DADA teacher usually revolved around some central plot or another during the course of all his previous school years. Why should this one be any different? He was midway through a particularly large yawn when Professor Strata's eyes fell away from Dumbledore and onto him. Dumbledore seemed to think their conversation over and turned to chat with Mrs. Sprout, while Harry found himself in the second intense staring match of the evening. Her eyes were boring into him like Draco's tended to do, and it was unnerving enough that he made to look away when he heard a voice eerily familiar to the one Ms. Strata owned echoed through his head.

__

Ah…The other Mr. Potter…We meet at last…

Authors Notes: Anyone confused yet? ^_^


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